


Skaiblu

by EightDrinkAmy



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Injury, POV Second Person, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 08:35:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3889648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EightDrinkAmy/pseuds/EightDrinkAmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Prompt: on her journey to Polis, Clarke finds a wounded Lexa as the only survivor after a small group of her grounders was mysteriously attacked on their way to Polis"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skaiblu

“Lexa? Lexa, can you hear me?”

You blink and try to clear the haze out of your vision, shooing away the fog in your head so determined to smother your consciousness.

“C’mon, Lexa, you have to stay awake. Can you say something to me? Anything.”

The voice sounds familiar. You can’t quite place it; it’s like something you’ve heard before in a dream. A dream of a dream. It sounds like a river and it sounds like the wildflowers when the wind blows through them and it sounds like when it rains too much and it drowns them all. It sounds like–

“ _Lexa._ ”

It sounds like Clarke. But it  _can’t_  be Clarke. You betrayed Clarke. You left her people to die. You’re done with her and she’s done with you, and she can’t be here anyway because she has her people to attend to and if she’s going to do something about Mount Weather she needs to be doing  _that_  and not talking to you because if she waits too long then–

Oh. Oh, she sounds so upset.

You should probably be worried about that. What exactly is she saying?

You blink some more and some of the black clears away and you can see her face looming above yours and you think you can see tears but you’re not sure because she looks angry, too.

Oh, her eyes are so beautiful. Blue, like the sky she came from. Skaikru laik skaiblu. The sky people are sky blue. Blue eyes, except they’re not all like that, are they? But Clarke’s, Clarke’s are clear blue on a sunny day and stormy gray when she’s mad, and anything in between depending on her mood and you’re in love with them because they’re a part of her and it’s been so so  _so_ long but you think you’re in love with her too.

Hodnes laik kwelnes, yes, but you don’t really think it matters anymore. Not when you can’t even  _feel_  the pain anymore. Not when it has just faded to the back of your mind, almost gone,  _almost_  and if you close your eyes you know it’ll go away for good.

“ _Lexa!_ ”

And suddenly the pain is back in full-force and you scream, you scream  _loud_ , because you’ve felt pain before and this should be  _nothing_  but for some reason when it comes so unexpectedly when you were just starting to feel peace for the first time in your life it shakes you to your very core and knocks your mind out of its haze and you can  _see_  and Clarke had hurt you, and she’d hurt you intentionally and you love her even more for that because you’re not drifting anymore and you can actually  _think_.

“Clarke.”

“Lexa, thank God,” she sighed, wiping those tears away with the palm of her hand. “I’m going to do as much as I can out here, okay? Just don’t…just stay awake if you can. Okay? Nod if you understand.”

You do; or at least you try to, but you aren’t really sure it was noticeable until Clarke gives a weak smile and squeezes your hand. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her look this vulnerable, but even as she begins to work on the deep, deep wound in your gut she’s gathering herself again and pulling herself together almost as if she’d never been fazed.

You watch her, never so much as flinching at her touch, as you start to fade again. You’re in and out, in and out, and she doesn’t even notice through her determination to heal you that you cannot stick around any longer.

 _Mochof,_  you think,  _Klok kom Skaikru. Ain gonplei ste odon. May we meet again._

And the last thing you see before your heart finally stops is Clarke’s face, and you truly do hope you will meet again.


End file.
